


jealous

by LittleMissStark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accusations of Infidelity, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Infidelity, M/M, Past domestic abuse (not between Steve and Tony), Steve Rogers does questionable things in this, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, but he isn't a bad person, fun times with Tony & Rhodey & Pepper, past alcoholism, references to infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissStark/pseuds/LittleMissStark
Summary: The scene played out in his head perfectly: his husband coming home, dropping the keys in the bowl with a clatter, hanging up his coat, wandering into the kitchen as he asked himself what smelt so good… Steve would see the candles, the dimmed lights. He’d hear the music, the slow, waltzy jazz he liked so much, and then finally, Tony. Tony, who was cooking for Steve like a good husband, wearing all of the things Steve loved and found sexy, serving him and doting on him and then making him feel good.None of those things happened.So Tony drank alone, having popped open the wine bottle himself a half hour ago when he saw Bucky’s Instagram story: short, incoherent videos of flashing lights, alcohol, loud EDM, and Steve, who was partying it up like a fucking frat boy… dancing way too close to Sharon Carter.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 290





	jealous

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the lyrics of 'jealous' by Beyoncé  
> This is also unbeta'd. We die like men.

_ I'm in my penthouse half naked _

_ I cooked this meal for you naked _

_ So where the hell you at _

_ There's just one shot left of this drink _

_ In this glass don't make me break it _

Tony watched as a thick rivulet of wax slowly ran down the side of the scented candle he'd lit almost more than 2 hours ago -- the same amount of time it had been since Steve had texted him, "I'll be home soon, babe." 

The front door had yet to swing open, the text Tony sent -- “Where the hell are you?” -- had yet to be answered, and the hot, home-cooked meal he’d made had yet to be eaten. And Tony? Tony had yet to be appreciated for his efforts. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the lace garter belts digging into his thighs and the cheeky, black panties giving him an annoying wedgie he no longer found sexy. The skin-tight stockings and corset were making him sweat, as well as the small amount of makeup sitting lightly on his face. He wanted to peel off his itching skin, rip off the expensive lingerie he was so excited to buy just the weekend before. 

In the mirror, he’d thought he looked beautiful, that Steve would come home and be filled with love and lust and desire for the way Tony dressed up for him -- so delicately, so sweetly -- and made him dinner even after all the arguments they’d been having. 

The scene played out in his head perfectly: his husband coming home, dropping the keys in the bowl with a clatter, hanging up his coat, wandering into the kitchen as he asked himself what smelt so good… Steve would see the candles, the dimmed lights. He’d hear the music, the slow, waltzy jazz he liked so much, and then finally, Tony. Tony, who was cooking for Steve like a good husband, wearing all of the things Steve loved and found sexy, serving him and doting on him and then making him feel  _ good.  _

None of those things happened. 

So Tony drank alone, having popped open the wine bottle himself a half hour ago when he saw Bucky’s Instagram story: short, incoherent videos of flashing lights, alcohol, loud EDM, and Steve, who was partying it up like a fucking frat boy… dancing way too close to Sharon Carter. 

Tony wrapped his fingers around his glass tighter just at the thought. He blinked rapidly, pushing back tears and feeling so  _ stupid.  _ God, what was he  _ thinking _ ? How could he ever think he could fix this distance between them -- this coldness, this  _ anger --  _ with lacy panties and Chardonnay? 

He checked the time on his phone: 2:04 AM. No notifications. The background of him and Steve cuddling during their anniversary teased him, bringing more tears to the corners of his eyes. He switched it off before his mascara could run, flipping the screen over and pushing the phone aside. 

There was barely any wine left in the bottle, but he downed whatever was left anyway, finishing it clean.

The dancing candle flames cast eerie shadows on the wall, mocking him, calling him stupid. He  _ felt  _ stupid. 

The pretty clothes he wore were supposed to be liberating, were supposed to help him and Steve find each other again. Despite all of those intentions, they led him back to where he started: isolation. 

And the house still stayed silent, no longer feeling like home. 

When the front door finally opened to stumbling footsteps echoing down the hall -- the phone read 2:28 AM -- that’s when the red hot fury surged. Tony chucked the glass he’d kept in a tight grip for an hour and a half, shattering it against the wall, leaving broken crystals everywhere and drops of wine sliding down pathetically.

He stood up hastily, chair scraping the floor, and wiped angry tears from his cheeks before blowing out the candles and snapping off the garter belts, which left burning, red lines on the front and back of his thighs.

“What the hell?” he heard from the dining room entrance. There he was, all 6’ nothing of handsome, beautiful,  _ wasted  _ man, rubbing a hand over his face as he leaned against the wall frame for support. Steve was slurring his words, swaying in place, and looking around with owlish eyes. His gaze fell on Tony, who was still wearing the getup Tony now thought looked ridiculous. He flushed a deep red, wanting to hide away and sob and cover up his body in raggedy sweats so no one could ever see him like this again, much less  _ Steve.  _

Steve managed to focus his eyes in the dark despite his drunkenness, and when his brain was able to piece together what was happening, a stupid smile spread across his face, one that he quickly covered up with a palm. “What’s all this?” he asked, hiding obvious amusement. 

Tony’s face screwed up as he went breathless with hurt. He never felt so ugly.

He never knew Steve could make him feel so disgusting while he was so vulnerable.

“ _ Fuck you _ ,” he spat, pushing his drunk husband aside and running up the stairs, vision blurry with tears. 

_ Wish that you were me _

_ So you could feel this feeling  _

_ I never broke one promise _

_ And I know when you’re not honest _

_ Now you got me yelling _

_ That's because I'm jealous(If you're keeping your promise, I'm keeping mine) Ooh, I'm jealous _

_ (If you're keeping your promise, I'm keeping mine) Ooh, I'm jealous, uhn _

His nails clawed at the lace and silk, pulling them apart like cotton candy and dropping them on the floor, making sure he stepped on them for extra measure. Tony wanted to burn them, to burn  _ everything _ . 

Every time was a failure, every time was just a joke. 

It wasn’t like Tony wasn’t trying. He knew he could be trying harder, he knew he could put more effort to close the trench between him and his husband. But the more he tried -- the more he strained himself to make the gap smaller -- the more it seemed Steve was trying to shake him off. 

What was he doing wrong?

He dug through the closet, looking for the baggiest pair of sweats he owned and grabbed a faded MIT sweatshirt to match. He pointedly ignored Steve’s clothes, the ones he wore whenever he was feeling sad, when he needed his husband’s strong arms around him and Steve wasn’t there.

It was better, safer, to hide like in his own clothes instead. He didn’t want Steve to laugh at him anymore. 

There was a frame on the bedside table. In it was a napkin taped against a piece of cardstock the same dimensions as the frame. A messy, but familiar scrawl covered the entirety of the crumpled napkin. The ‘y’s were looped, the writing tapering off at an angle. There were tinier sentences scrunched in the corners and sides of the block of words taking up the majority of the canvas. 

Steve wrote his vows on that napkin. He said they came to him while he was out having coffee with Sam and Natasha just two days before the wedding, and that he’d quickly scribbled everything down before he forgot. 

Tony remembered crying ugly tears at the altar as Steve sealed his promises, spoke them into word, and gave Tony his forever. 

_ “You’re the only one. You’re my only one. I’m the ocean and you’re the stars, and without us, there is no Earth. I love you.”  _

A beautiful, poetic oath to a marriage that was falling apart. 

Tony turned the frame down.

Right as he was about to clamber under the covers, there was a light knock at the door. “Tony?” 

He debated on whether or not he should get up from the bed, whether he should even bother chastising Steve for something he wouldn’t stop doing no matter how many times he promised he would. How many times does he have to hear the same old excuses? 

How many times does he have to convince himself that Steve isn’t lying to him?

“C’mon, baby, open up.” A beat. “ ’m sorry.” 

Tony held his head in his hands. He’ll always be a sucker for Steve when he sounded desperate. So he acquiesced, stomping his way up to the door and swinging it open. 

“What?” he snapped, crossing his arms across his chest at Steve’s bewildered face. 

“Ya sss… sound angry,” Steve slurred, clearing his throat and standing up straighter. “Wanted to ’pologize.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Nope, not drunk.” 

“You smell disgusting.”

Steve sniffed dramatically in response. “An’ you s-smell like wine.”

Tony brought a hand up to his forehead, finding that he had no energy to deal with this bullshit. “Your dinner’s on the table. Eat it, don’t eat it, I don’t care. If you don’t, just put it in the fridge.”

“Mmm,” Steve groaned, rubbing his eyes. “ ’m not hungry.” 

“Then, go down-- _ stairs,”  _ Tony pushed Steve back as he tried to stumble into the bedroom, “and put the food in the  _ fridge.”  _

“Nooo… ’m  _ tired.  _ Wanna cuddle wit’chu.” 

Tony struggled to shove Steve backwards. The man was heavy, and it didn’t help that he couldn’t keep his balance on top of that. 

“Why cuddle with  _ me _ ?” Tony growled, managing to maneuver Steve away from him. “Go ask  _ Sharon _ ! It seemed like you two were having the fucking time of your life, grinding up on each other! Might as well finish the job! Why didn’t you just sleep the night over at her place, huh? Why even bother to come home?” At some point, Tony’s low, steady anger flourished into uncontrollable yelling. His face flushed red with fury, his chest heaving erratically as well. 

Steve had the audacity to giggle. A grown ass man. Drunk and giggling. 

Tony wanted to throw his wedding band at Steve’s face. 

“Yer  _ jealous _ ?” Steve was laughing, but Tony’s knuckles were pure white. “C’mon sweetie, don’ be crazy. Put those pretty things back on again, I’ll sh… show ya who I really love. C’mere, sexy.” 

“Ugh!” Tony stepped back in disgust as Steve loomed forward and missed, tumbling to the floor. “Look at you! You’re embarrassing!” Steve struggled to get back up on his feet, but Tony pulled him up with every bit of strength he had left and dragged him to the guest room. “You’re sleeping in here tonight. I don’t want your pathetic ass anywhere near me.” 

“Ton _ yyyy… _ ”

“Stop whining.” 

The second Steve hit the bed, he was out like a light and snoring. 

Tony could only look at the sprawled figure of his husband, the strong, intelligent, wise man he married, and wonder what happened, what he possibly could have done, to have all his hopes and dreams of a beautiful future come to this.

_ Sometimes I wanna walk in your shoes _

_ Do the type of things that i’ll never ever do _

_ So I take one look in the mirror and say to myself _

_ Baby girl you can't survive like this _

As much as he didn’t want to, he ended up leaving the Advil and a bottle of water on the nightstand before closing the guest room door behind him. 

“Life would be so much easier if I hated you,” Tony mumbled under his breath as he finally made his way back to bed. He ended up having to clean up the broken glass on the floor and store Steve’s dinner away himself, but what was he expecting, really? 

The clock read 3:00 AM. Getting up tomorrow was going to be a bitch. 

Looking at himself in the mirror was a mistake; the smudged makeup and dark lines of mascara staining his cheeks made him look like a washed up one-night stand gone wrong. The comparison wasn’t far off, Tony thought, chuckling wryly as he wiped everything off. 

How long was this paranoia, this resentment, going to keep plaguing him? It was corrosive, feeling like this all the time. Steve’s antics were hurting him, but he couldn’t dump all the blame, couldn’t leave him in the dust, not when Steve’s current antics were once Tony’s forte. 

Somewhere at the bottom of one of the dresser drawers were all the milestone chips he collected from AA meetings -- meetings which still stayed fresh in his mind even though it’d been years since he’d been to one. 

Steve married him despite those dark days of the past. 

Tony wondered what Rhodey and Pepper must have gone through during his alcoholic, addictive days. Did they feel as fed up as he does now? 

It’s hard to love a broken person. 

Internally, he groaned at the memory of him downing the entire bottle earlier. All those years, all that effort just to lose control again because his husband forgot about him. He was doing so well.

The lingerie lay wrinkled on the floor in a sad little heap. Tony turned away, wrapped himself tighter in his duvet, and decided to face the window instead. Through the sheer curtains, he could see trees swaying in the wind, a calming image given the stress of the night.

Yet, sleep evaded. 

His mind kept wandering back to those short clips on Bucky’s Instagram story, the ones of Steve dancing with Sharon, feeling her up like a horny teenager, of her sharing a closeness with his husband the way Tony hadn’t been able to for so long. 

Yes, they’ve been arguing more often than usual. Yes, they weren’t sleeping together, forget about having sex. But every couple has rough spots, right? Every couple has these moments, but that didn’t mean that they just gave up immediately and went to find comfort in other people. It shouldn’t be so easy to break away from the person you love. Steve and Tony knew this best. 

After all, they’ve been through the lowest of lows and come out on the other side  _ together _ . This was… this was just a dry spell between them, so why did it seem like Steve was willing to throw up his hands and surrender so fast?

_ We’ve been through worse,  _ Tony thought. 

Maybe it wasn’t about going through a rough time, then. Maybe… maybe Sharon was just prettier than him,  _ sexier _ . 

His mind went back to how Steve laughed at the sight of Tony in lingerie, as if the very idea was a sick punchline. Tony couldn’t be sexy anymore; he was too old, too…  _ weathered _ . 

A teardrop sank into his pillowcase. He didn’t even notice he was crying again. 

He was tired of this. 

He was tired of himself.

_ Take it one step further _

_ Freakum dress out of my closet _

_ Yonce filling out this skirt _

_ I look damn good I ain't lost it _

“Are you going out again tonight?” 

Steve jumped at Tony’s sudden question, causing him to miss the sleeve of the black bomber jacket he was in the middle of putting on. 

A week had gone by since Steve last came home drunk. He’s since apologized profusely, claiming he barely remembered what happened and that whatever he did, he promised to never do it again. To which Tony, no matter his strongest inhibitions, forgave him. Because no matter what Steve did, no matter how many times he repeated the same mistakes, Tony refused to give up on his husband, not when Steve never gave up on him once upon a time ago.

They fell back into the rhythm of domesticity, Tony doing his best to be patient, to be understanding and kind and a good husband. If he showed Steve that he loved him, that no one could ever love him like Tony, then Steve would come back to him, right? He’ll forget about Sharon eventually. 

And yet, here Steve was, leaving him alone again on a Saturday night. 

“Can’t we just watch a movie together on the couch? We’ll order in, have a quiet night. Just the two of us. We haven’t… we haven’t done that in a while.” Tony tried his best to mask the obvious desperation crawling up his throat, but the voice crack at the end of the sentence didn’t help matters for him.

“I’m just going to have one beer with Sam and Bucky. I’ll be back before you know it.” Steve’s tone was reassuring, nonchalant, as if what he was doing wasn’t breaking Tony’s heart into little pieces. “We can do movie night next Friday.”

There was a pause where neither of them said anything, just shared the same space as Steve shuffled around to find a pair of socks and shoes.

“Will Sharon be there?” Tony asked, teeth gritted, pointedly turning his face aside when Steve looked directly into his eyes, who froze a beat before he gave a sigh that sounded more like a scoff. 

“This again? You’re being ridiculous, you know that? Sharon is my  _ friend. _ ”

“Yeah, well,  _ friends  _ don’t grind up on each other the way you two were last week at the club,” Tony sneered. 

“You--” Steve placed his hands on his hips, making that face he always made when he was going to use a condescending tone. “You’re keeping tabs on everything I do now?”

“Everything put on social media is fair game. It’s not like I wiretapped you for fuck’s sake.”

“Okay, could you calm down for a second and just  _ listen  _ to yourself?” Tony wrapped his fingers in a tight fist. He always hated being told to calm down. “You really think I’m cheating on you? You really don’t trust me at all?”

“You haven’t given me a reason to, lately.”

Steve’s eyes widened, his face flushing red. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

There was a lump in Tony’s throat, and he almost gave up, not wanting to deal with Steve’s anger, not wanting to feel like a fool again. Then, he remembered being laughed at; he remembered the bottle of wine he’d drank all by himself without Steve being there to comfort him, to tell him to stop; he remembered that he was being replaced by a young, blonde, beautiful woman he couldn’t ever dream of competing with. So Tony swallowed the lump instead and opened his mouth, letting his rage take over. 

“It means you lie to me about where you’re going, why you’re going, and when you’re coming back!” Tony rebutted, chest heaving. “It means you don’t tell me what’s going on in your head or- or talk to me or confide in me! It means you stay out all night and get wasted every weekend even though you promise you won’t do it again! It means you tell me you’re going to Sam and Bucky’s house, but you’re actually going to a club or a- or a strip club or wherever the  _ fuck _ so you can go sleep with someone else!”

At some point, Steve started stalking away from him, a heavy stiffness to his shoulders, but Tony followed, jabbing a finger in the air and seeing red as he raised his voice higher and higher.

“I’m not sleeping with Sharon!” Steve roared as he whipped around, eyes wet and the vein in the right side of his forehead protruding. “I’m a grown man! I can go where I want, I can talk to who I want, and I can dance however I want! I don’t need your fucking permission!” 

“Oh, you’re a grown man? It didn’t seem like it when you couldn’t stand straight and had to be put to bed like a baby because you were drunk off your ass last weekend!” 

“You want to talk about being drunk and acting like a hopeless idiot? You want to lecture me about drinking responsibly?  _ You?  _ Of all people! You’re many things Tony, but I didn’t think you were a fucking  _ hypocrite.”  _

The retort fell right out of Tony’s mouth as Steve’s words punched him hard in the gut, leaving him breathless and paralyzed with hurt.

By the look on Steve’s face, the second the words came out of his mouth, he regretted it just as intensely. 

“I’m sorry--”

“ _ Please,”  _ Tony strained, swallowing thickly. “Just…” he paused, screwing his eyes shut. “If you want to go, just go. I’ll, um… yeah.” He was visibly deflated, his voice shrinking in volume until he barely whispered, “You can go.” 

“Tony--”

“I just never thought that you wouldn’t want me anymore, and that was stupid of me,” his voice was low, close to a whimper, and even as he said it through his tears, he felt like an open wound. Yet, he couldn’t shut up. “You don’t put a hand on my back as you move beside me the way you used to, o-or give me little kisses just randomly for no reason, or put your head on my shoulder when we’re watching TV. You don’t compliment me or smile at me, you don’t even fucking  _ look  _ at me. Like I’m just a burden to you now, like I’m just-- just  _ invisible. _ ” 

He slapped his sleeve against his mouth to stifle a sob. 

Tony watched Steve swallow dryly, his face tense as he tried not to cry. Then he took a small step forward. “Tony--”

“Don’t touch me!” Tony exclaimed, surprising even himself. “Just--” he took a step back. “Just get out.  _ Please. _ ” 

Tony turned on his heel and went up the stairs before his husband could protest, but chose to wait behind a wall until he heard the front door close. Once again, the house was eerily quiet. Once again, Tony was lonely.

He let out a slow, shaking breath, hugging himself tight. His skin tingled like pinpricks, the familiar restlessness itching at him from his very core. No-- the familiar anger.

Steve had walked out with his wedding band placed snugly on his finger. Tony took care to notice that, even amidst all the chaos. 

The ring was right where it was supposed to be, but sometimes… sometimes the little voice in Tony’s head suggested that Steve took it off on the weekends, that Steve let his husband go for a few hours if only to feel free. Alive again.

And Tony didn’t know why his brain jumped to conclusions so fast like that, but he couldn’t help but wonder. He couldn’t help but feel the way he felt. 

Unwanted. Unloved.

_ “There’s something wrong with you, Tony. If you don’t change, you’ll find yourself all alone in the future, and when that day comes where you find yourself having no one to talk to, no one to turn to, no one to give a rat’s ass about whether you lived or died, you’ll remember what your old man said.”  _

Tony found himself dialing Rhodey’s number. 

“Hey Tones, what’s up?” 

He couldn’t bring himself to speak because he knew the second he opened his mouth, it would just be a sob.

“Tones? You alright?”

“Rhodey,” he somehow managed, albeit breathlessly.

“Hey.” Rhodey’s voice grew softer, and Tony was so grateful for a friend like him. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you come over?”

Within fifteen minutes, both Pepper and Rhodey were at his door armed with ice cream and murderous glints in their eyes. He hadn’t called Pepper, but he figured Rhodey had picked her up on the way anyway. When it came to any problem among the three of them, no one was ever left out. They faced trouble together or not at all. 

That’s why, when the both of them showed up indignant and fiery, ringing at his doorbell furiously, Tony sagged with relief. God knew where he would be without them. 

Pepper was wearing pajamas and slippers, tapping her foot impatiently as he pushed open the storm door. The second he moved out of the way to let her cross the threshold into the house, she dumped a big, black bag in front of him.

“What’s in that?” he asked, raising an amused eyebrow. 

“A sparkly dress, heels, and makeup. Rhodes here wouldn’t let me dress up before hauling ass over here so I had to stuff everything in a bag.” 

“Huh-?”

“We’re going out tonight,” Rhodey filled him in while handing him the carton of ice cream. “We’ve allotted twenty minutes of self-pitying time where the three of us make a dent in  _ this _ ,” he gestured at the ice cream, “then I’m going to rant about your man being a sorry sack of shit for five minutes, and  _ then,  _ we’re all going to find out where that son of a bitch ran off to and crash his goddamn party.”

Pepper nodded along to this plan they both seemingly came up with during the car ride over. Tony hadn’t even mentioned Steve once during his short phone call with Rhodey, but the fact that the both of them knew exactly what was wrong without him having to even say it made it that much more clear how lucky he was to have a family who knew him so well and loved him unconditionally. 

(It also said a lot about how much Tony has been turning to his friends about his failing marriage, but that was something he chose to ignore at the moment. It didn’t seem like he’d have much time tonight to think about being a burden.)

“I don’t know guys, are you sure this is a good idea?” Secretly, Tony wanted, more than anything else at the moment, to show Steve just what he was missing. He wanted a chance to be apathetic, to shove his middle fingers in his husband’s face and turn his back just  _ once.  _ At the same time, though, he didn’t want any more arguments. He didn’t want more confrontations and resentment and frustration and tears. He just wanted a normal weekend. 

He wanted his husband back.

“Hey,” Pepper said softly, breaking him out of his trance. “We haven’t all gone out together in a while. Don’t you think we deserve a fun night out?”

“I just don’t want a fight,” Tony admitted, lowering his eyes from her intense gaze. 

“It’s not a crime to spend time with your friends. Steve’s been doing it so you get to do it too.” She nudged his shoulder. “And if he gets to catch a glance at you looking irresistible in the process? Well, what’s the harm in that?” 

Tony spared a smile as Pepper hurried him up the stairs, not even giving him a second to feel sad or guilty or anything else except for a quiet excitement. Rhodey quickly followed with spoons, and the three of them jumped on the bed, acting and feeling like children at a sleepover. It’d been so long since Tony felt so light. 

“You still got that outfit Pep bought you for your birthday?” Rhodey asked after some time spent gossiping and giggling about nothing. 

Tony hummed, taking another spoon of chocolatey goodness into his mouth. “I haven’t had a chance to wear it anywhere, though.” 

Rhodey got up to sift through the walk-in closet. “I remember your ass looking absolutely spectacular in those pants,” he said, voice muffled behind the wall. 

“It’s all that time on the stairmaster,” Pepper chimed in, pointing her spoon in Tony’s direction, who rolled his eyes fondly. At least  _ someone  _ was appreciating the work he put in to maintaining his body. “You found it yet, Jim?” 

“Got it!” A storm of clothes was thrown in Tony’s face. “Bastard had it hidden.” Tony dodged the playful swipe Rhodey aimed at him before holding up the professionally cut, stretchy slacks and the dark, sheer shirt accompanying it. Both articles were form fitting, and the last time Tony tried it on (which was almost a year ago), he remembered feeling so confident, so sexy, so… powerful. 

He’d wanted to show it off with Steve by his side. 

“You wanna wear these out tonight?” Rhodey asked as Pepper went into the bathroom to put on her own outfit and makeup. 

“I--” Tony paused, tightening his lips when he felt a lump in his throat. He attempted a smile that came off more like a pathetic twitch of the lips. “I wanted him to see me.” 

The words were soft, falling out of his mouth -- a faint echo of the confidence he used to exude effortlessly. 

He leaned into the hug Rhodey wrapped him in, letting his eyes fall closed as he allowed himself to be held in strong arms. “He  _ will _ see you,” Rhodey said, gently rubbing Tony’s arm.

He felt another warm touch on his shoulder. Pepper. Stunning, beautiful, kind Pepper. She was glowing in her outfit, looking nothing less of a goddess. “Come on, boys. Let’s go have some fun.” 

In the privacy of his walk-in closet, Tony glanced twice at the lacy panties he’d washed and stuffed away since that fateful night. Again came the image of Steve’s contorted face, of his disbelief, of his  _ amusement.  _ Again he wondered why he wasn’t good enough, pretty enough,  _ sexy  _ enough. 

In the full length mirror, Tony’s body stared back at him. His beautiful body, his  _ strong _ body -- filled out in all the right places. He ran his hands down the small of his back, following the swell of his ass before letting his arms fall limp on his sides. He looked back at the panties.

And put them on anyway.

_ And I ain't missed a beat _

_ Boy you been hanging out at night _

_ Tonight I'm stayin out until tomorrow _

_ Dancin on them tables _

_ Ain't got no cares no sorrows  _

It took Pepper approximately thirty seconds of detective work to figure out where Steve was. Natasha had posted a blurry selfie of her, Sharon, and Bucky on her Instagram stories. In the background were bright, multicolored lights and the sleeve of a bomber jacket-- the same one Steve put on before he left for the night.

He couldn’t help the small hitch in his breath when he saw the picture of Sharon. She was glowing, a regal sort of beauty he could never live up to. Tony knew that she was intelligent and passionate too from the few times he’d met her. Sharon was the golden girl next door, the one who brought a smile to everyone’s faces because of her infectious personality.

And Tony? He was a bitter old man trying to hide behind lace and foundation, trying his best to keep up in the midst of his own denial. He was fading fast. 

No wonder Steve didn’t love him anymore. 

But he didn’t have time to convince his friends to turn the car around and take him home so he could wallow in peace because Rhodey already found a parking spot, and now Pepper was dragging him out towards the innocuous looking building which had booming bass leaking out of the walls. He found himself grinding his heels into the concrete, his palms suddenly sweaty in Pepper’s tight grip.

“I don’t want to do this,” Tony said, his breath escaping him. “I don’t want to-- I don’t want to see him dancing with  _ her _ .” 

A steady hand rested on the small of his back. Rhodey’s touch soothed his nerves, but not enough for him to buck up. 

“Don’t think about him,” said Pepper, loosening her hold on Tony’s hand and interlocking her fingers with his instead. “Tonight’s about  _ you.  _ Alright?” When Tony still didn’t cave, instead beginning to turn around, she pulled him back. “You look beautiful, you know that?”

Maybe he  _ looked _ beautiful. He sure as hell didn’t feel it.

“We’re right here beside you,” Rhodey added, wrapping his strong arm around Tony’s waist before jerking his head in the direction of the club.  _ Let’s go.  _

Tony smiled at the perplexed look on the bouncer’s face when Pepper practically shoved him aside. She always knew how to get what she wanted.

The club was dark, the main lights dimmed so that the colorful ambient lighting could fill the room. The music, a heart thumping EDM mixed with the latest hip hop and pop, vibrated against the walls and the floor. The air was humid, yet electrified, a combination of close, sweaty bodies and adrenaline. 

All around him were young, beautiful, carefree people, moving with an ease and fluidity Tony hadn’t felt in years. He hugged himself unconsciously despite the warmth, suddenly hyper aware of how sheer his shirt and how tight his pants actually were. He felt every single year of his age creep up on him, settling into his skin. There might as well have been a sign on his forehead: OLD UGLY HAS-BEEN. 

Yet, Pepper pulled him forward while Rhodey pushed him from the back. He wasn’t going to be able to escape, but he figured that might as well be his punishment for lamenting his husband’s rendezvous with someone that wasn’t him in private, hoping naively that Steve would forget about her eventually and come right back home to Tony’s arms. Maybe tonight was a long time coming. And maybe… maybe he shouldn’t fight it.

The trio let themselves be swallowed by the wild crowd, becoming one with the sea of bodies. They breathed in the humid air, sweat and booze on the tips of their tongues. Tony let himself soak in the liberation, allowing his muscles to unclench and his bones to meld to the music. 

His good friend, Dr. Strange had once mused about what it was like to separate the soul from the body, to truly exist without the limitations of the vessel that carried you. What would it be like to live only as you are?

Tony had laughed back then, but now he felt like he understood. 

He let his eyes fall closed, instead giving himself over to the moment. If he was breathless, he didn’t know it. If his legs were going stiff, he didn’t feel it. There were no more headaches, no more questions haunting him, no more rings holding his finger in a chokehold. He didn’t care about Sharon; he didn’t care about Steve. There was only him as he was. 

A sweaty palm grabbed his own, and Tony opened his eyes to Pepper’s beaming smile. She was exuberant, stunning in her sparkly dress. He was so lucky to call her his family. 

She spun him around, him doing the same to her. They held onto each other, limbs entangled and laughing over the deafening music. Rhodey stole him away, and they did their own little tango while Pepper clapped them on. 

A friend group of college kids clambered onto tables, whooping and cheering as the DJ pointed at them and switched up the music. 

The three of them stumbled and clambered their own way through the crowd towards an empty table for themselves. Pepper made her way up first, using the booth seats as a boost, before stretching a hand out to the boys. 

Tony joined the pedestal, looking out across the entire club. For a second, the sounds faded, and he could only hear his own heavy breathing. For just a second, among the flashing lights and the chaos, Tony felt like the king of the world.

And then he saw Steve on the other side of the dancefloor, part of a larger circle that included Sam, Natasha, Bucky, and… and Sharon. 

In an overwhelming rush, the music suddenly grew ten times louder.

_ I ran into my ex _

_ Say what up to his besties _

_ Now we reminiscing _

_ How we used to flex in Texas _

_ Don't be jealous _

All the sensations that were drowned out by adrenaline snatched Tony up right by the neck. He felt the sweat drenching his body, the heat of his friends surrounding him, and the blood boiling in his veins. 

Across the dance floor, Steve danced without a care in the world, oblivious to the fury Tony radiated from the other side. Beside his husband was Sharon, looking like a ray of sunshine. 

Steve sure looked at her like the sun shone out of her ass. 

It didn’t take long for Rhodey and Pepper to take notice of Tony’s gaze, and the second they caught sight of the crime, they gave each other a knowing, concerned glance. The both of them hopped off the table, snapping their friend back to consciousness as they dragged him down too. 

_ “Let’s go give that big asshole a show!” _ Pepper screamed into the boys’ ears. Before Tony could even get the chance to protest, he was shoved through the mass of heat in the direction of the very person he woke up next to in the morning, but couldn’t recognize anymore in the dark of the night. 

When the trio grew closer to Steve’s circle, the first person to catch sight of them was Sharon herself. Her wide, gorgeous smile fell right off her face, her features quickly contorting into a guilty expression. Steve slowed his dancing at her sudden stiffness and turned.

Even through the sparse, flashing neon lights, Tony could tell that a shadow had fallen across his husband’s face. Steve tightened his hand around the neck of the beer bottle he was holding, but otherwise, he was frozen in place, not unlike a child preparing for a reprimanding after being caught red-handed. 

Tony looked his husband straight in the eye, but kept his mouth shut. He was past the yelling and the pleading. He was past voicing his pain. If Steve didn’t want to hear him earlier, then he would hear him now: the untouchable version of him -- the unattainable one.

He ignored Sharon, who had stepped backwards seeking shelter from one of the others in the group. Tony couldn’t make himself hate her for being roped up in Steve’s complications. And yet, he couldn’t forgive her for being better than him -- for being good enough for the man he could never deserve.

Tony took one step back, then looked away, turning his back from his husband and falling into Rhodey’s arms with a wide smile.

Just like the days back at MIT, when the lights at the frat parties went dim and everyone was properly buzzed, Rhodey held his best friend close, their cheeks touching and their breaths mingling. Rhodey spun Tony around, then pulled him flush against his body, his hands resting on Tony’s waist as Tony’s head fell flat against Rhodey’s chest and his ass ground up against Rhodey’s groin.

Pepper took Tony’s hands in her own, moving into his space and pressing her forehead against his. The three of them moved in sync, one unit, bound together by a history of pain and happiness and growth. 

They were a forever family. 

Even though he couldn’t see Steve, he could sense the locked jaw, the intense stare, and the furrowed eyebrows. He knew that the beer bottle Steve was holding by the neck was at risk of becoming tiny little shards. On a normal day, Tony would be annoyed by Steve’s possessive, posturing, uber-masculine behavior. But on this night, Tony relished in it, eagerly fueling his husband’s rage. 

_ See what you’ve been missing? All you had to do was stay home with me. _

When Rhodey moved his hands lower down Tony’s body, sliding down the sheer material that was barely clinging to his skin, Tony welcomed the touch, melting internally at the soft caress. Pepper moved in closer and touched her nose to his neck, nuzzling at the soft skin there. A warmth bloomed in his stomach at the sensation of being held so close -- of being  _ cherished _ . 

He figured too many nights spent in a cold bed would make anyone forget how good it felt to be admired. 

So he fell pliant and let the tension flow out of his muscles. Time slowed to the rhythm of the R&B song playing in the background. If only he knew it was possible for the world to become so honey sweet in the confines of a sweaty, downtown club, then he would have come here more often. 

It was almost good enough for him to somewhat understand why Steve preferred this place night after night after night as opposed to staying at home with his boring husband.

_ Almost  _ good enough. 

“Our Uber’s here, Tony. It’s time to go.” 

Tony took his time opening his eyes and rejoining reality, and he wasn’t ashamed at all for staying in his friends’ embrace as Steve finally deemed him worthy of his attention. Up close, he could see the bags under Steve’s eyes and his straightened, pursed lips. If he was further away like he was before, the flashing colorful lights would have made him look ominous and threatening. Right now, however, he only looked exhausted, and if Tony was reading his eyes right, he seemed a little defeated as well. 

Was Steve finally waving the white flag? 

“I think I’m good right here,” Tony responded, petulant. And maybe it was a lapse of judgement on his part, or maybe he had all the right in the world to do what he did next. In any case, Tony was internally gleeful at the face Steve made when Tony backed further into Rhodey, making sure he looked at his husband from under his eyes as he moved fluidly with his best friend, back arched and ass out. 

At the sight of Steve’s clenched fists and wide, furious eyes, Pepper stepped into his space, pushing back on his broad shoulders as his chest heaved. “We’re just having a little bit of fun, it’s nothing to get all worked up about.” 

“Nothing to get--” Steve sputtered, face turning red. “The both of you are rubbing up on him like you own him! You two dated  _ once. _ ” 

“And what about it?”

He only puffed, then, as if deciding it wasn’t worth it, he tried to push past Pepper, but she steadied him with a strong arm. Tony smirked from where he was now lying his head against Rhodey’s chest. She was always his knight in shining armor.

“We really got him all riled up now, haven’t we?” Rhodey whispered in Tony’s ears. The both of them snickered, touching their foreheads together. 

Tony knew he was being cruel, but he also didn’t give a fuck. Let Steve feel the way he felt. Let him know what it was like to be ignored, cast aside like a big nothing. Let him know what it was like to watch someone else’s hands all over the one who was supposed to belong to you and you alone. 

“Let me through, Pep,” Steve warned, but Pepper was never one to just take that kind of tone from anyone. 

“He said he’s fine just where he is.” 

“It’s getting late, and we need to  _ go.”  _

“Why? You and your friends have been here longer.” She gestured at the circle of people who now looked on worriedly, including Sharon, who still hadn’t managed to wipe the guilt off her face.

Steve scoffed. “This is getting ridiculous--”

“Oh, so it’s only ridiculous when Tony does it, but when you want to get all down and dirty with Sharon Carter, that’s supposed to be okay?” 

Tony felt his heart skip a beat. 

“You’re in on that too? You date the guy once several years ago and you think you know everything? I thought you’d have better fucking judgement, Potts.” 

At this point, Tony started to notice people staring. He was already sick of hearing Steve being so childish, so determined to refuse to be called out. Pepper didn’t deserve this and neither did Rhodey.

In a guilty flip of his stomach, he realized that his friends had taken time out of their lives to be used by him because he was having trouble with his marriage. They were fighting for him, defending him, when in reality, he didn’t deserve to be defended. 

What type of friend was he? How could he just let Steve trash talk them while he sat on the sidelines like a fucking damsel in distress? 

But Pepper didn’t let up, and she struck an arm out to block Tony from stepping forward. She was never the type of person to let someone else have the last word. “I may have dated him once, but at least I’ve never left him. I thought you’d know better, being his goddamn  _ husband _ .” Steve deflated at that, taken aback by the brutal honesty of Pepper’s words.

“I--” 

“And you want to talk to  _ me _ about having good fucking judgement?” 

That’s when Tony stepped in between the two of them, hopefully dissolving the tension that was causing the entire club to turn and whisper about them. He shared a quick glance with Rhodey who nodded slightly, as if to say  _ it’s okay, we’ll be fine.  _

Tony softly placed a hand on Pepper’s shoulder. “I’ll see you soon, alright?” She gave a small smile that almost seemed apologetic. He hoped she could tell by his eyes that she never had to apologize for anything. He hoped that she and Rhodey knew how much he loved and appreciated them both. 

Everyone in the club began minding their own business again now that the crux of the drama was done and over with. Tony still felt the eyes of Sam, Bucky, Natasha, and Sharon on him. They were all friends with each other, but he couldn’t help but feel that in that instant, they were all nothing but strangers. 

Steve snatched his arm a little too aggressively for his taste and began to pull him towards the exit. Tony, already burnt out from the entirety of the night, didn’t bother to fight back, but instead, used the last of his energy to look directly at Sharon Carter. She had shrunken back, her features pinched as if she was trying to keep herself from crying. In that moment, Tony only saw her as she was: a bright, young woman who was just scared, her time and attention being taken advantage of by a lost, struggling man. 

In that moment, Tony felt for her. 

So he forgave her. 

  
  


_ (If you're keeping your promise, I'm keeping mine) Ooh, are you jealous _

_ (If you're keeping your promise, I'm keeping mine) I'm jealous _

Once they were back out into the streets, Tony shoved Steve’s grip off of him and dodged when Steve reached for him again.  _ “Keep your fucking hands off of me!” _

Tony clambered into the Uber parked on the side of the road. He heard Steve sigh, then, after a beat of hesitation, he climbed in next to Tony. The space between them sat cold and distinct. The driver took one glance at them in the mirror and chose not to attempt small talk, sensing the atmosphere. 

Although he chose to look out the window the entire time, his vision blurred at the edges, Tony could tell that Steve’s eyes were on him. 

The ride was silent and intense, but they both made it back home alive. Tony only managed a hasty “Thanks” to the driver before speed-walking his way to the house. He heard Steve jog after him, and he started to move faster. 

“Tony, please just listen to me.  _ Please,  _ can you just--”

But the noise was drowned out by the white noise roaring in Tony’s ears. By the  _ anger.  _

When he fumbled to put the key in the door, it was Steve who settled his shaking hands. And that only made Tony’s blood boil. 

“Tony--”

_ “Now you see what it feels like!”  _ The words came out quavering as Steve slowly shut the door behind him, and Tony hated himself for sounding so weak and stupid and vulnerable when he needed to stand his ground. “And you hated it, didn’t you?” he continued, voice cracking as the tears spilled. “You hated seeing someone else touching me the way you’ve been touching Sharon Carter! You hated being ignored, you hated being forgotten, you hated being -- being a fucking  _ afterthought-- _ ” 

He faltered, the words dropping off his tongue when he saw Steve’s face scrunch up red and tight, as if he was in deep pain. Steve sank to the floor on his knees, running his fingers through his hair and pulling on it. There was only the sound of Tony’s heavy breathing in the charged silence when suddenly, Steve heaved a massive sob. 

Tony took a feeble step back, his back hitting the locked door. He squeezed his eyes shut only for a few more hot tears to leak out. Briefly, he wondered what a third person would think if they saw this picture in front of them: a fragile relationship, two broken people. 

They might laugh. For it was a pathetic picture indeed.

Steve wouldn’t even let him be angry and upset by himself. For that, Tony wanted to tear the whole house apart. 

“No, no, no, this isn’t fair. This isn’t fucking fair. You don’t get to do this now, not after everything you’ve done!” 

Steve stayed shaking in place on the ground, silent for a few seconds before another sob ripped through his body. “I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.” 

“Did you know I drank a whole bottle of wine by myself last weekend? Did you even know that? Did you even  _ care?  _ Did you  _ ask? _ ” Tony’s throat hurt from pushing his tears down and yelling while also trying to keep quiet and suppressing his rising guilt on top of that. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not fucking sorry!” He heaved a breath, trying his best to reign himself in. “You’re not sorry,” he said again, quieter this time as he moved past his crying husband and went upstairs, not bothering to glance back. 

  
  


_ Sometimes I wanna walk in your shoes _

_ Do the type of things that I'll never ever do _

_ I take one look in the mirror and say to myself _

_ Baby girl you can't survive like this, no _

God, he was a mess. His face was flushed beet red, his eyes were swollen, and his nose was running. Wasn’t he too old for this shit now? 

The bathroom was eerily quiet, and the tiles were cold against his bare feet, not to mention that the whole house felt chilly. If things were normal, he would have grabbed a blanket and dragged it to the couch where Steve would be waiting for him, ready to put an arm around Tony’s shoulder. They would cuddle while watching a stupid movie, then Steve would carry him to bed.

All of that seemed so far away now. It almost felt like he dreamed it.

They should take a break right? The thought of it made Tony’s face crumple again, and he braced himself on the bathroom sink as his shoulders gave out. They were suffering, but it didn’t seem like staying together made things any better. 

It was funny, Tony thought as he washed his face, that they used to be better at talking to each other. After years of miscommunication and heightened tempers, they were finally able to grow up and speak to each other. They were able to love each other so profoundly.

Tony didn’t know what he’d done wrong for all that work to fall apart so spectacularly. 

He needed to send Pepper and Rhodey some flowers or chocolate or something. They always dealt with his bullshit, always showed up for him, and all he could do was use them to make Steve jealous? 

“Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid, _ ” he said through clenched teeth, hitting his palms against his head before pulling on his hair. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Rhodey was texting him through the group chat he, Tony, and Pepper shared.  _ You guys get home okay? Let us know if you need anything. We’re worried about you, Tones.  _

Pepper followed up with three carets. 

Tony shot off a few reassuring texts, then hesitated before commenting on Steve.  _ Steve and I need to figure some things out. Will keep you guys updated.  _

He flipped his phone over and took a few deep breaths. He chuckled at his reflection, which was once glowing. Now, he could see his wrinkles again and the exhaustion behind his eyes. His body felt heavy, like gravity was begging him to let go and keep falling, falling, falling until he hit the center of the Earth.

By the time he peeled his sweaty clothes off and clambered into the bath, he was depleted. The water cradled around him like a blanket, and he wondered if it would be okay if he just fell asleep right here, where it was warm, where it was safe.

_ And I hate you for your lies and your covers _

_ And I hate us for making good love to each other _

_ And I love making you jealous but don't judge me _

_ And I know that I'm being hateful _

_ But that aint nothing _

_ That aint' nothing _

_ I'm just jealous _

He came out with a bathrobe tied snugly around his torso. He felt much cleaner now, and his temple wasn’t aching from having his jaw clenched so hard anymore. 

And Steve was sitting on their bed, still in the clothes he wore out. His face was sunken in, his eyes rimmed, swollen, and red. 

Despite everything, Tony felt something in his chest twist at the pathetic sight. His anger still bubbled deep within him, his pain doing everything in its power to keep him from going towards his husband. 

There might have been something to say about self-respect and learning to turn your cheek, and Tony knew this. God, did he know. He’d seen the battle his mother faced, a woman doomed to an unfaithful marriage, doomed to loneliness. 

But Tony wasn’t his mother. 

And Steve wasn’t Howard Stark. 

So he found himself standing in front of the man he loved to a fault and laid gentle fingers on the back of his head. Tony felt his eyes well up with tears again. He was so sick of crying. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed when Steve looked up at him, those blue eyes full of anguish. Steve’s face scrunched up again, and he buried his face in Tony’s tummy, wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist as if he were a child afraid to go to school. 

Tony leaned in, holding his husband’s head against his body, not knowing whether the swelling in his heart was one of forgiveness or one of mourning. 

He thought about how Steve had grabbed his arm in the club, pulling him away from Rhodey and Pepper like they might steal him away. He thought about how his frustration morphed with a strange pleasure -- the pleasure of knowing that he was still loved, that even though there was a potential replacement right beside him, Steve still came back to Tony. 

Steve came back. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Steve said breathlessly, his voice muffled against Tony’s skin. “I don’t deserve to be loved by you.” 

Tony pulled back, then kneeled on the carpet before Steve. He cradled Steve’s head in his hands, and wiped his tears. Steve’s small smile lasted less than a second before his face crumbled again. 

“Why do you think you don’t deserve love when you are the  _ love  _ of my _ life _ ?” 

Tony pressed his forehead against Steve’s. “You are the  _ love  _ of my  _ life,”  _ Tony repeated with a conviction that others may call him stupid for. “ _ Talk _ to me, Steve. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me be by your side, let me be your husband.” 

“But I hurt you--”

“And I’ve hurt you so many times. You never left me during my worst moments. You never abandoned me.”

“But I  _ did,”  _ Steve rasped, pushing back against Tony’s shoulders. “I was going to throw it all away, and I didn’t care.” Tony’s heart dropped, but he kept his lips pursed shut. “I was going to do it, I was going to sleep with her--” Tony stumbled back, his body going numb, but he still kept silent. “You should hate me. You should leave me here, divorce me. Get far away from me before I destroy you the way I destroyed everyone else who was around me. I wasn’t made to be loved, Tony, I wasn’t made to be forgiven. I’m just like my father.”

And with that, the air left the room, and Tony felt like he forgot how to breathe. Steve never spoke about Joseph Rogers, and the rare times he did, it was always in general terms. Tony had never forced the issue, had figured that maybe Steve would tell him about his father in his own time, the way Tony eventually told Steve about Howard. 

It was funny how the residues of their fathers poisoned them for their futures. For Tony, the poison came in the form of alcohol, and for Steve… 

For Steve, it came in the form of distance.

And weren’t they both just two sides of the same ugly coin that was self-loathing? 

“I found Ma’s journal,” Steve whispered shakily, and Tony snapped out of where he sat on the floor, dazed. “He was a monster to her. He was evil.” His voice was so meek, so small. Tony had never seen Steve so broken. “I could have-- I could have done something to save her. I-- I was never  _ good.  _ I--” 

“Steve.” And he finally snapped out of it, and met Tony’s eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

“But--”

“It’s not your fault. Look at me, Steve.” Tony got up to his feet, and took his husband’s hand in his own. “It’s not your fault.” He tugged at Steve’s shirt, then helped him take off his pants until he was only in his boxers. Then, he flipped the covers open, and guided Steve to bed before joining him on the other side. 

They faced each other, eyes locked together for once after so, so long. Tony studied the grooves of his husband’s face, re-memorizing the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the redness of his lips, the slope of his nose. He traced his smile lines, deepened with age, then ran his fingers down Steve’s strong shoulders, hard with muscle, yet gentle. 

He remembered the vows that sat beside them on the bedside table, the promises they made to each other.

“You were just a boy,” Tony whispered. “You were just a boy.” He pressed a kiss against Steve’s forehead, and felt his husband relax. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay.” 

They fell asleep with Tony’s arms wrapped around Steve, the two of them closer than they had been in a long, long time. 

_ I'm just human _

_ Don't judge me _

_ (If you're keeping your promise, I'm keeping mine) Don't judge me, ooh, I'm jealous _

_ (If you're keeping your promise, i'm keeping mine) _

Tony was in the middle of his hot shower the next morning when he heard a knock at the door. He smiled at the sound he never thought he would hear again. “Come in.”

Steve walked in naked, looking exhausted, but relaxed. “Can I join you?”

“Yeah,” Tony breathed. 

And when Steve slipped inside him against the shower wall, Tony moaned at the ecstasy, feeling a pleasure he couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

Later, at the kitchen counter, while the both of them cradled mugs of coffee, Tony said, “I think we need to take a break.”

Steve paused in the movement of sipping his coffee, then followed through. He didn’t protest, nor did he bat an eye. He was expecting this.

“Look at me.” Steve did. “I’m going to spend some time at Rhodey’s place. In the meantime, I think-- I think you should seek out therapy.”

Steve nodded, but didn’t say anything else. 

“Then, I want you to apologize to Sharon. And after that…” Tony hesitated. “After that, I don’t want you to see her again.”

He waited for the anger or for a frustrated groan, but didn’t get either. “Okay” was all Steve said. 

“Okay?” Tony repeated, making sure.

Steve nodded more fervently this time. “Okay.”

Tony had thought long and hard about next steps, about whether forbidding Steve from seeing Sharon again was fair. In the end, he found that it was a sacrifice worth making for the sake of them both, for the sake of Sharon herself.

She was, after all, much more than a vessel for a broken man’s pain. 

“I’m leaving tonight. But before I go, I want to make sure that you’re okay. If there’s anything you need, just tell me.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too.” The words came out strained, but Steve fought through it. It hurt Tony to see his husband so low, but he knew that he had to do this. He knew this was what needed to happen. He walked around the kitchen island to where Steve was sitting, then laid a kiss against his temple. When Tony pulled back, Steve reached up and kissed him hard. A plea to stay, a plea for forgiveness. 

“I’m going to miss you, Tony.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I know.”

That night, when Rhodey pulled up in the driveway, Tony was ready at the front door with his bags. Steve stood near the stairs, his hand clenching the bannister tightly. 

“I wish you’d stay,” Steve confessed, his voice small and shaking.

“Oh Steve.” Tony pressed their lips together, soft and tender and sweet. A promise. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“You mean it?” 

“I do.” Tony turned and picked up his bags. “Don’t keep me waiting, soldier.” 

Steve walked to the threshold of the door as Tony made his way down the walkway. “I won’t,” he called. “I promise.” 

Tony smiled at the earnestness in his husband’s voice, at the love in those blue eyes. Then, Rhodey came out to help him with the bags, and he was already inside the car. 

“You doing okay?” Rhodey asked once they were both inside. 

Tony watched Steve still standing at the threshold, and gave him a little wave. Steve smiled a small smile, then waved back. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we’ll be alright.” 

Eight months later, they were. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate your comments and kudos. Come talk to me on my [tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/littlemissstark)


End file.
